Black Hair Poems | Examples
These Black Hair poems are examples of Hair poems about Black. These are the best examples of Hair Black poems written by international poets.
I’m chocolate kisses in mid air
Lillies get stuck in my licorice hair
Not a beauty by American standards
But I intrigue courters and enchanters
I like to fancy myself a purple poet
Though my muse is often stoic
He dangles ideas above my head
Just out of reach making me beg
For one hint at greatness in a night
A song a poem the world’s delight
But I’m stuck in maroon mediocrity
Sailing to blue moon from black sea
Me in love with my cluster of hairs
since I was running in my teens :
Curly, deep black, thick bushy,
also lengthy reaching my waist,
drawing attraction and admiration.
Felt proud paying reverence to hair.
On ageing owing to hair loss,
bound to cut till neck in steps.
Even in old age, fluffy woolly natural style
provides grace and elegance on my face.
T-shirt three times too big, that fails half way down my thighs.
Bare face, not a trace of makeup to hide beneath.
Hair unbound, falling down my back in waves.
Combing through that hair dark as black coffee.
Hair smelling of soft, sweet violet, with a hint of Frankincense and smoky Myrrh.
Looking in the mirror, seeing the most real you that most don’t get the chance to see.
when I
young I
was well
and tell
my friends
split ends
my hair
not fair
but clean
not mean
I wash
and brush
my locks
like ducks
to say
like fay
I sing
and swing
and fly
not cry
to dry
not fry
under
hot air
my own
full grown
long hair
black hair
love you
just you
sweet you
black you!
It's not that i desire to have long hair
It's just my natural hair is a nightmare
Braids are easy you just unwrap and go
Wearing different styles or let them hang low
Some explore with different colors but i love black
Corn rows, twists, individuals we can all do that
It brings out our creativity and sets us apart
It's not just a style we wear it's a work of art
I admit it takes a while and you have to be willing to sit
How much hair to use takes serious measurement
Whether we do them ourselves or someone else gets paid
It doesn't make a difference we love wearing braids.
Lovely, happy hair,
Rowed, and growing in beauty;
God’s sweet locks I bear:-
Hued as is the night,
Moonlight beauty reflecting
Ebony delight:-
Locks admired so much,
Gardened rowed short or shouldered,
Just got to be touched.
God makes no mistakes;
Creating natured beauty,
Whatever hue takes:-
Mirror check and see,
The blooming beauty of thee,
And gracefully be:-
passion for fashion
kinky hair halo for head
smiles styles black green red
there once was a fella named Joe
whose hairstyle's a wonky Afro
to the barber Joe went
Who repaired his head dent
Joe returned bald headed like Moe!
Beware of the men in bald, they say.
You’ll see them everywhere.
They come in sizes, tall and short,
upon their heads, no hair.
The bald men come in thin, they say.
They also come in fat.
Their heads are found upon their necks,
often, underneath a hat.
It is much better, people say,
to have hair upon your head.
It doesn’t matter, the color,
be it blonde or black or red.
But, if your head grew grass instead,
they’d say you ought to mow it,
and water it so it won’t fall out.
That’s what they’d say, I know it.
Now let me tell you something, son,
about the bald men you will see.
Some of them are not so bad,
like my father, his father, and me.
Anxiety when there’s rain
For I know my hair will change
Reaching umbrella in vain
Onyx hair will bounce like spring
Putting in a lot of love
Uniquely owning my Afro puffs
From hanging hair to
Freeing up in the air
Strutting my stuff
Our ex-Pres is now laying it all bare
At Joe Biden, he wants to spit and swear
Pot’s calling the kettle black
Barack, take another tack
You look like hell yourself with that gray hair
He rode a horse he got thrown off
Onto the ground his head hit first
In a pile of manure horses pie
On top of his head he lie
Looked like a derby hat yah!
Getty-ap
Laddie look like a hat he wore
But it was just a pile of manure
She was a fair black lady
At the hair dresser
The weather man say yesterday
It’s gonna be sunny and bright
Yet, when the young lady left out the hair dresser
It thundered and began to rain
Uncovered her hair got wet frizzled and fuff-up
She looked like a cotton ball, now all wet she wore a afro
Lasses look like she wearin a British hat
2/14/24
For Put Yer Funny Hats On Laddies (Lasses Too) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tom Woody
Sally Sue was a big-haired gal from Kalamazoo
She lived in a forest of green with tiny slivers of blue.
Her thick hair was her nemesis, her big boo-hoo
She was not any kind of hairdresser, little Sally Sue.
She meditated in the forest when a large black crow
Swooped down into her hair, and nested way below.
Right next to his rat and his family of twenty-seven.
Maybe I should shave it off, said her mother Heaven.
her hair is all over the place
wackadoodle with curls
filling up the space between chairs
stiff burgundy and black locks
twirling around the bottom of our feet
Which would have been okay in normal heat
It is ninety-two degrees in here.
So her wackadoodle hair is slightly irritating
to those of us who have to watch how we move our chairs.
Melting cloud sprinkles pearls on you,
shines the black braid with heavenly hue.
________________
March 2, 2023
Syllable count : 8/9 (HMS)
Contest : A New Crystalline - Any Theme
Sponsored by : Tania Kitchin